


Childhood Tales

by TheWalrusAndTheCarpenter



Series: Lavellan & Pavus [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mahanon's mother likes to tell embarrassing stories about young Mahanon, Shovel Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:43:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4668782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalrusAndTheCarpenter/pseuds/TheWalrusAndTheCarpenter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>|| Mahanon's mother decides to visit Skyhold, bringing her embarrassing stories with her. ||<br/>“Your mother was just telling us a lovely story, your inquisitorialness.” Varric said with a smug grin, while lacing his fingers together in front of him on the table.<br/>Mahanon began to feel the start of a headache in his temples, today was going to be long and trying.<br/>“Mamae, please say you didn’t.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Childhood Tales

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Clan Lavellan survived the war table operation.

Dorian didn’t mind waking up early if there was a good reason to be up, for example, the smell of a _proper_ breakfast was a perfectly valid reason to get up early. Another would be if his lover had woken earlier and decided to place kisses on him, there was honestly nothing better than waking up to the elf sleepily and chastely kissing his cheek, nose, and forehead. However, he didn’t enjoy waking up to panicked Elvish curses and the sounds of clothes being furiously looked through.

“Is something the matter, Amatus?” Dorian asked, sitting up in bed and allowing the sheets to pool around his waist.

Mahanon was storming around the room wearing only the pair of thin tattered trousers he usually slept in, rummaging through the trunks and chests he kept his clothes in. The wooden pendant around his neck swung with every frustrated movement the elf made. Holding up each piece of clothing he came across, he would look at it carefully before tossing it behind him with an agitated grunt.

“Creators help me.” He mumbled throwing yet more clothes around. It hasn’t even occurred to him until now that he had picked up so many clothes on his travels, and yet so few of them were suitable for today.

Pulling himself from the bed, Dorian moved over to Mahanon and placed a hand on his shoulder, massaging it gently.

“Whatever those horrid clothes have done to you, I’m positively certain that tossing them around is not going to do much. Now, are you going to tell me what’s the matter or am I just going to have to guess, hm?”

The elf calmed at the touch and took a deep breath before answering.

“My mother is visiting today and I completely forgot about it until Josephine mentioned something about hearth cakes. How could I have forgotten?!”

Dorian froze momentarily; Mahanon’s mother was coming to Skyhold? He tried not to panic but it was hard, he knew they were going to have to do the whole family introduction thing at some point but he thought that he would have had more time to prepare and ready himself. Regardless, he had to keep calm because having both of them panic would do nobody any favours.

Pressing a kiss to the anxious elf’s head, he smiled.

“It’s going to be fine!” Mahanon didn’t look as though he believed him but nodded nonetheless. “Now, let’s gather all those clothes up and try again, shall we?”

Eventually Dorian had managed to convince Mahanon into wearing the outfit he wore a few weeks ago when they had some obnoxious nobles visiting. It wasn’t too flashy and the subtle Dalish touches to it were enough to piss off the nobles royally, meaning that it was _perfect_.

Soon enough a scout had knocked on their door informing them of the arrival of Nia Lavellan.

“Just act natural and everything will be fine.” Mahanon advised, although it sounded more like advice to himself. “Oh, and she couldn’t speak very much Trade when I left so speak slowly and don’t use all of those fancy works I know you love using. And don’t mention anything about slavery, hunting, or wicked grace, although those don’t tend to be mentioned much in-”

In attempt to quell his ramblings, Dorian kissed him and luckily Mahanon melted into it. Well, that certainly was one way to help nerves that Dorian would have to remember for later.

“Hush now; it’s all going to be fine, I’m sure your mother is a lovely lady.”

“You say that now…” Mahanon muttered in Elvish under his breath. It was horrible of him to say so because his mother was actually a lovely lady, she just got a bit carried away at times.

-

When they found Nia Lavellan she was talking with Solas, Varric, and Sera. At least that’s what it looked like to passers-by, but Mahanon knew it was more likely that she was talking _at_ them and the rest were too shocked or confused to say anything in reply. Either that or they wanted to reply but couldn’t get a word in edgeways, which was very likely.

“Mahanon! Da'len!” She yelled as she spotted them, gesturing to join them at the large table they were sitting around.

Nia Lavellan was a small woman, even for an elf. Although her hair was a lot darker than Mahanon’s, their resemblance was uncanny. They shared the same face shape, the same nose, and even the same little beauty mark on their cheek. It was as though they were twins rather than mother and son. Dorian tried to hide a smirk as he couldn’t help but wonder if she had a birthmark on her lower back just like Mahanon did.

As Mahanon sat down next to his mother, with Dorian in the seat next to him, he noticed the looks of amusement on the faces of everyone around the table. Varric looked as though he was taking mental notes again, Solas looked calm but his eyebrows were raised in interest, and Sera was biting her lip so hard in attempt to not laugh that she was near drawing blood.

“Your mother was just telling us a _lovely_ story, your inquisitorialness.” Varric said with a smug grin, lacing his fingers together in front of him on the table.

Mahanon began to feel the start of a headache in his temples, today was going to be long and trying.

“Mamae, please say you didn’t.”

His mother just feigned innocence, batting her dark eyelashes and taking a sip from the glass of wine in front of her.

Not being able to hold it any anymore, Sera burst out laughing. “Sparky!” She managed to get out through her giggles.

At the mention of the old nickname, Mahanon blushed, tinting the tips of his ears a shocking pink.

Dorian raised an eyebrow and with a smirk he leaned forward. “Oh please explain! I do so enjoy hearing embarrassing stories about our inquisitor here.”

Stories from when he was a small child were not something he wished Dorian to hear, because not only were they embarrassing and quite stupid, he would also never hear the end of them. To say that Mahanon was clumsy as a child would be an understatement, he was constantly getting into trouble because of it and he really didn’t need his mother telling all of Skyhold about any incidents that had occurred.

“Mamae, I’m glad that your Trade had improved but he _really_ doesn’t need to hear any stories.” Mahanon pleaded.

“You must be Dorian!” Nia said with a grin as the information Mahanon had provided her about him in his last letter finally made a lot more sense. She examined every inch of the human mage and didn’t even attempt to be discreet about it.

“You certainly have a fine piece of ass there.” She switched to Elvish and Mahanon’s face turned even redder.

Dorian couldn’t help but feel slightly excluded. He had no clue as to what she had just said, but if Mahanon was blushing furiously and Solas was chuckling to himself, it had to have been something g _ood_. He was really starting to like this woman.

“Now, onto the story…”

Despite Mahanon’s obvious glares Nia continued to share the story of how Mahanon’s magic had manifested. Although Sera, Solas, and Varric had heard the story not too long ago, they didn’t seem to mind hearing it again.

“Poor thing had a cold,” She explained as Mahanon slid further and further into his chair, willing the Creators to take him there and then.

Dorian’s hand on his knee was nice but it wasn’t helping all that much.

“But he still had to go out and make sure all of the halla were okay since Lanaril was busy getting some herbs. He was coughing and sneezing constantly but the halla still approached him as they always did. It wasn’t until they had all gotten close that he sneezed again, but this time he let off a spark of magic which set the nearest halla’s coat ablaze. It all caused quite the ruckus! Luckily we managed to get to the halla before it became injured, but the rest of the halla kept avoiding him after that and we had to get someone new to check on them each morning.  Everyone then kept calling him Sparky, it died down after a while and now it’s only really Athren that calls him that.”

By the end of the story everyone at the table was laughing (or smirking in that odd way that Solas did), apart from Mahanon. However, the mention of his childhood friend caught him off guard.

“How- How is Athren? We haven’t really spoken since I joined the inquisition.”

His mother stopped laughing once she heard Mahanon speak up, and smiled at him.

“The same as he always was, that boy’s still as snarky as ever. He and Ariane are very happy together, she’s due by the spring.”

He was a bit shocked to hear the news, although he probably shouldn’t have been. It was no secret within the clan that Mahanon and Athren were close, and the fact that Mahanon had feelings for Athren that extended further than friendship was no secret either. Mahanon did eventually confess to him but Athren, being Athren, never really took the confession seriously and so Mahanon gave up. Shortly after that, he had joined the inquisition and met Dorian, he never thought back to Athren once he had met the other mage.

“He would have sent letters but you two didn’t exactly part on great terms,” she said referencing the fight the two had had before Mahanon left for the conclave, Mahanon still remembered the harsh words he had yelled when Athren laughed off his honest confession. “I think he was just worried that writing to you again you hurt you even more, you know he always did care for you-”

Realising that the rest of the table still had their attention on their conversation, Mahanon cleared his throat and disrupted his mother.

“Perhaps this is a conversation for later?” He said in a tone that suggested it most likely would never been continued, privately or otherwise. He didn’t wish to talk of past desires that no longer stood.

Dorian had never heard of Athren before and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in knowing more. However, he and Mahanon had an unspoken agreement not to bring up any past relationship of any kind, it was clear they had both been hurt by people they care for and there was really no need in dredging up the past if it was just going to hurt.

“Oi Leafy’s mum!”

For once Mahanon was glad for Sera’s inability to keep quiet, the silence that had taken over the table was beginning to get uncomfortable.

“You got any more good stories?”

As Nia began another story about a certain young elf who had managed to nail his sleeve to the aravel while he was trying to repair it, Dorian took Mahanon’s hand under the table and massaged the back of it with his thumb. He smiled softy at the elf almost to say that there really was nothing to worry about and that everything was going fine. Mahanon just smiled back and actually began to relax and listen to the stories his mother told, although mostly embarrassing, they were still good memories.

The afternoon continued along with Nia’s stories. After a while, more members of the inner circle had turned up and happily listened in. Nia knew almost instantly which kinds of stories each companion would enjoy hearing and catered to it, she was good at reading people. While Cole loved any story that involved animals, Cassandra appeared to pay more attention to Nia’s story about how she and Mahanon’s father had met. She even threw in a few cute stories about Mahanon growing up, much to his distaste, which Dorian seemed to be enthralled in, he enjoyed learning more about his _amatus_.

Eventually some scouts turned up and handed Mahanon a large stack of reports that he was required to look over and so the elf decided that it was probably best to bid farewell to his mother again.

“It really was nice seeing you again, Mamae. I’m sorry that I don’t write more but it is a bit hectic over here.” He said as he stood up and awkwardly hugged his mother, who was still sitting.

“It’s fine, don’t worry so much. Ar lath ma, and stay safe.” She placed a kiss on his cheek before allowing him to leave.

Dorian was hot on his heels but she grabbed his sleeve before he could get away.

“A word please Dorian.” She said before getting up and dragging him off to the other side of the room, leaving the others to talk amongst themselves.

Dorian knew what was coming; it appeared that he would be receiving a shovel talk from Mahanon’s mother. He had only experienced one of those before and that was from Solas, he and Mahanon had quickly developed an odd sort of friendship, and by the Maker could he be terrifying when he wants to be.

“Thank you for looking after my son. I know you two care a lot for each other, I’ve seen the way you two kept looking at each other this afternoon and it makes me happy knowing he has someone like you. However,” she paused, her face turning darker and more threatening “Be careful shem, should you hurt him I will…” Nia fumbled for the correct words in Trade before giving up “Ar tu na'lin emma mi.”

He couldn’t be too sure as to what she said exactly as he knew very little Elvish, but it definitely wasn’t “I’ll invite you over for tea and scones.” Swallowing thickly, he nodded.

“I understand. I would _never_ intend to hurt him. You have my word.”

Nia just smiled at him, content with the answer she was given she turned on her heel to head back the table. She was a strange one, Dorian thought, but any mother who cared about her child seemed strange to him since that wasn’t exactly what he was used to. He was just glad that she approved of them, that’s all he could have wished for.

“Dorian are you coming?” Mahanon asked from the end of the room, still holding the pile of reports he had been handed earlier.

“Coming, Amatus.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda short, kinda quick little thing that I thought was cute. It's unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own and I'd really appreciate it if you mentioned any so I can fix 'em!
> 
> I used the Dragon Age Wikia for Elvish  
> Translations:
> 
> Da’len – Child or Little One  
> Mamae – Mother  
> Ar lath ma – I love you  
> Ar tu na'lin emma mi – I will see your blood on my blade


End file.
